Memory
by Y0URIMAGINARYFRIEND
Summary: Being kidnapped and brainwashed usually never does anybody any good, but when Sakura is taken by the Akatsuki, a chain of events follows which will change everybody involved. AU after manga chapter 436 or so, rated M for violence and adult situations.
1. Prologue

Right. I know I have another story that I've not updated, and I'm sorry. But this is November, and I'm going to do NaNoWriMo (look it up if you've never heard if it, it's brilliant!). Therefore, expect frequent updates, slightly slapdash writing - though I've got a beta which should help a little - and a complete overhaul of the story some time after November ends. Con-crit is welcomed, and I hope you enjoy this adventure as much as I do!

~YIF

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><p>The world is gritty with the darkness of pre-dawn as a woman races through the forest. She leaps with all the lightness and grace of a woodland animal, but considerably more speed. She is Sakura Haruno, and her life is about to be turned upside-down.<p>

She's not altogether unprepared for this though – the dark air is thick with tension, and on the wind, faint enough to be imagination, is the scent of blood.

The woods end abruptly, with a few crazily leaning trees and a cliff edge, but the woman leaps over, down, without pause. For a moment all her senses are filled by the rushing wind of her descent, but then her boots connect with bare rock and the world resolves back into clarity.

Chakra awareness comes first - the air positively thrums here, saturated with killing intent, and she recognises the harsh tinge of desperation running through it. The smell of smoke hits before her head has had time to snap back upright, and the blood is definitely not imagined now. Then her eyes and ears recover, and she flinches despite herself.

Ahead, standing in a strange mimicry of the hospital rooftop a few short years before, is the boy she's been chasing as long as she can remember. But it's not Naruto who is facing him down this time – he's behind along with the rest of her team, held up by a man who appeared to have Zabuza's sword. Sakura had been at the back of the group before, and that had given her the chance to slip round and ahead alone, feeling unusually bold and reckless.

She doesn't feel much of anything now. Not when Uchiha Itachi stands before his younger brother, hands shaping signs that are far too familiar. Her feet start moving as his lungs expand, prompted without conscious thought by the way Sasuke is _facing the wrong way_. It seems as long a sprint as she had before, trying to get between her teammates' attacks that day when they fell apart, but this time she is faster. Has to be faster.

She will not fail.

Unhesitating, her body intercepts the fireball half way to its intended target, feet planting down with a rush of chakra that sends the ground flying up in pieces. It's the only long-range attack she has in her arsnel, but she doesn't have time to doubt if it will prove effective against such an opponent as this. Instead she grunts in pain as the concentrated stream of fire billows out around her, just barely clinging to consciousness and calling healing chakra to her agonised skin.

The ground comes up to meet her before she's quite ready, and Sakura ends up almost on all fours, panting, on bare rock tilted at a crazy angle. There's no time to recover her stance, to check if Sasuke is alright after being hit by the remnants of the fireball and thrown into the air by the buckling ground, to do anything. Itachi is before her in an instant; unscathed, directly in front of her.

She has a moment to be thankful that her head is only at his waist height, then closes her eyes and leaps backwards, adrenaline pushing her despite the screaming of her skin. Weightless and in darkness, there is a sudden calm, but then her eyes reflexively open to see the jagged ground approaching, and she lands back in the battlefield.

Itachi is in front of her again immediately. This time his hands clutch her upper arms, gripping hard on her burned skin to render her helpless and making her cry out in pain. She refuses to look at him; bowing her head and hoping for a swift death instead. Anything, it doesn't matter to her now. Her team aren't far behind her, even with the towering cliff to block their signatures she can feel the heat of the Kyuubi on the edge of her senses. It seems fitting, that she should finally sacrifice herself to give her boys the chance at a reunion, at a happy future. They've always protected her in the past, and she will protect them now at any cost.

But Itachi does not strike. Instead he speaks: "Kunoichi. You are from the team my brother abandoned. Why did you protect him when he has betrayed you?"

For a moment Sakura is shocked, then furious. "You bastard," She hisses, "You _made_ him leave us. Sasuke never would have gone, except for you. He's still my teammate, and I would do anything for him."

Unexpectedly, she hears a snort at that, rather like suppressed laughter. More likely, from a monster like him, it's just derision. "You would act to help him, even though he will spit upon your kindness? How unlike him you are."

"You don't know anything about me, or about him either. We're teammates, and nothing can ever break that bond, even if he's been hurt by you so much he can't see that right now. And when you're dead, it'll be over, and we'll damn well bring him home. It's only because of you that the team fell apart and we won't let you win. You -"

"I don't know anything?" Itachi's voice is definitely amused now, and it's all Sakura can do to keep looking down and not glare at him. "I know that you, _Sakura_, are naive where my little brother is simply foolish. And I know that he'll never love you, no matter how long you chase him."

Incensed, she stamps down, trying to impact the ground again, wanting to _hurt_ him - more because it's probably true than because her team must be almost here by now and the chance of survival has returned to her mind. But he lifts her up, tugging her skin hard and making newly formed blisters crack and sting. The adrenaline is fading now and the pain becoming all that much more acute, threatening to overwhelm Sakura with its intensity.

Just a few more moments, that's all she needs to hold on for. Just keep his attention for a few seconds more. But even as she hears the sound of shifting undergrowth from far above, Itachi unexpectedly releases her arms. She drops, staggers, and is caught by the chin. Her eyes squeeze shut, but then she feels warm air ghost against her lips, intimate enough to shock her into looking.

The last thing she sees is red eyes, so close to her own as to fill her vision. Then, nothing.

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><p>And so it begins. Tomorrow, chapter 2 - <em>Awakening<em>


	2. Awakening

Whew, this must be the first time in years I've actually updated on time. Just goes to show how much good a challenge and a helpful beta can do - thanks go to Schwarzer Kirschkuchen for so prompt and helpful with this chapter. Anyway, here's the next installment, enjoy!

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><p>The first awareness is of pain, intruding into the blissful nothingness and making her cringe away. But trying to avoid it only crystallises the awareness, and with a rushing sense she is pulled from complete blackness, through a wave of confusing sensations – <em>brightness and hot food and angry dark eyes and the scent of blood<em> – through to her body. There's nothing but the ringing of her own ears for a while, but then she begins to pick out the sound of her own breath, her heartbeat. The sensation of blood flowing, warm and surely red, leaves her aware of the brightness behind her eyes.

It is pinkish, not truly black. Light. Inexorably, almost against her will, her eyes crack open. Dark lines, dark stained wood, criss-crossing in different sizes and tied tight with creamy rope. Behind, smaller, beige pieces, woven tight together to form the ceiling. The weight of fabric above her and the support of her head indicate a bed, and she can feel smooth sheets beneath her fingertips. Most of the light is coming from the side, and after a few more blank seconds staring upwards, she tests her neck, and with a wince, gazes to the side.

The room is like a tunnel, with one large window at the end. The light streaming in is dulled by white paper, leaving all the shadows soft-edged and protecting her eyes from the shocking brightness somewhat. Blinking, she turns her head to the other side, back towards the comfortable dimness. The floor ends a short way away, and the top of another window, set into the floor below, is visible. Its brightness is almost immediately dimmed, however, by a dark form passing swiftly in front of it.

A few quiet creaks, and a head comes into view. Black hair, darker than anything else in this room, the face a pale blur. She doesn't recognise him, but then again the room isn't familiar either, she feels too groggy to place anything just yet. He climbs further into view, the light behind fanned out so his features are hidden, but he has seen her watching him and he hurries to kneel beside her on the floor.

His fringe hangs close to her eyes, blurring her vision a little, but she can't help staring at his eyes. Red, with lazily swirling black dots, framed by long, long lashes. He doesn't look surprised – indeed he seems almost expressionless, the attentiveexamination in his gaze dominating any emotions he might have. _This_, she feels sure, she should remember.

His breath puffs warm over her cheek, and she shivers – partly because she hadn't noticed the coldness of the room until now, partly because the sensation stirs _something_ in her. She still can't remember, but she knows she's felt this before, and she needs to know more.

Trying to speak, taking in a breath she didn't realise she was holding, the scent of pine and leather against her dry throat make her cough harshly. Her lips crack painfully, but he's reaching beyond her line of sight and then lifting her to a half-sitting position, pressing something cold against her mouth. There's a slow trickle of ice cold water, soothing her rough tongue and allowing her to swallow, to get the coughing under control.

His other hand is still supporting her, and the contrast of the warmth outside her with the cold liquid in her throat renews her wondering. She jerks her head to the side a little, and reading the gesture correctly, he tilts the lass upright and returns it to its place behind her. He turns the pillow and lowers her back to her original position as she tries to find the words to ask...where she is, who he is. Who she is, for that matter.

The uncertainty is suddenly alarming, and he seems to spot her anxiety in her face, because he rubs a calloused thumb-pad over her cheek as if to sooth her. "Hush, talking can wait. You've only just woken up, there's a long way to go before you get your strength back."

"But-" She croaks, then trails off, not sure how to start without being rude. She can't ask him who he is, when he clearly knows her. He straightens the bedding, folding over the under-sheet to protect her skin from the coarse woollen blankets.

"I'll get you some food, and once you've eaten we can talk." He says, leaning back on his heels and once again staring straight into her eyes for a few seconds. The moment is oddly tense – curling in her belly like it _means_ something – but she's not sure why, and then it's gone as he rises to his feet and heads quietly back to the floor below. As his footsteps die away, she feels oddly bereft, cut loose somehow. She doesn't even know how big this building is, or how long it might take for him to return. Him.

Her brow hurts when she frowns, the skin stiff and crusted, so she stops, and tries to dredge up a memory of him while keeping her sore face still. But there's nothing. She can't recall anything beyond today, beyond this empty room. But she _knows_ she must know him. How else could he be here? And even beyond that logic, she just knows. He's unplaceably familiar, and it's embarrassing to think of all the questions she'll have to ask. Somehow, she gets the feeling he doesn't like being asked or giving answers.

Waiting, mind buzzing but also so blank and empty as to be frightening, she falls into a half-sleep. She can still feel the light on her cheek, but it's different – morning sun as she waits for them to come, and the scent of spring on the breeze. And she can hear footsteps, she knows they're just behind her and turns to greet them because finally they're all together again.

But when she turns there's nothing there but the roof-beams above and the line of light from the window below. She tries to catch onto the threads of the dream, but her thoughts slither like fishes and she can't hold them at all.

It seems as if the man should be back by now, but the room is still and dull with silence. There's nothing to see, nothing to do but speculate, and she hasn't even got enough information to do _that_. But then her arm begins to itch, and she is thankfully distracted.

The skin on her arms and shoulders protests as she pulls both hands from under the covers, but that makes sense, given the way she hurts all over. Her hands look...not like her hands. They're covered by gauze, except for the fingertips of her right hand, and they seem too large. The room suddenly seems less cavernous, her mind scaling things down.

This time, when she hears footsteps, slightly slower than before, she looks more carefully. As the man comes into view, she sees his hands holding a bowl of something steaming, something that smells sweet and warm even from her bed.

When he kneels down, his hands look hardly bigger than her own, and yet...he still feels bigger than her. She feels as if she's nothing, nothing but a view of a room and a pair of arms.

"Here," He says, startling her. "I'll help you eat." And setting down the bowl, he lifts her again, so easily that she _must_ be a tiny, insubstantial thing. And yet his arms are barely thicker than her own, and when she looks down at her form under the blankets she looks large; real.

Her heart is beating too fast from trying to hold her own head up, and he must feel it because he huffs, shifts his position so he is sitting, one leg crooked behind her in support. Her head rests on his knee now, and after removing the support of his arm, checking that she doesn't fall, he reaches once more for the bowl.

It's half full with steaming white soup, flecked with yellow, and suddenly her stomach cramps with hunger. His other hand produces a spoon, and carefully, he takes a small spoonful and blows on it, far too long for her sudden impatience. When he finally presses the spoon to her mouth she swallows almost immediately, clarity coming to her foggy mind for the first time since awakening – she's _really_ hungry.

The feeling hasn't entirely passed by the time he scrapes the last mouthful from the bowl, and she wonders why he didn't bring more. But it has taken the edge off her appetite, and she has other questions to ask first. Licking her cracked lips for any last morsels, she looks at his face once again. "Thank you...but, um," She still doesn't know how to say it, because it seems to rude, not to know him. She takes a breath and tries again. "I...I think I know you, but I can't think, actually, who you are."

He doesn't respond for a moment, but then his eyes widen and he puts the empty bowl down to bring a hand to her forehead. "Sakura? You don't remember me?"

Sakura. That's her name. It doesn't sound the slightest bit familiar but the way it rolled off his tongue...it must be. Then she remembers his question, and shakes her head, too mortified to talk. He rubs a thumb gently between her sore brows, face concerned as he inspects her more closely.

"We knew you'd been hurt, but never guessed your mind could be affected," He murmured. "Sakura, I'm Itachi. Itachi Uchiha. We've known each other for years...but I can see you don't remember."

"Sorry," She says, blushingly contrite, "But I don't think I remember anything. I didn't...I didn't remember my own name, nor yours, and I don't know where I am or what happened either." _But you'll tell me, won't you? _The question lingers unspoken; she can't bring herself to look any more weak in front of him, it would disappoint him. No, not him – _Itachi_ would be disappointed. And she feels to let him down would be more terrible a crime than remaining ignorant.

"Well, I'll do my best to explain. You are Sakura Haruno, a member of the group known as Akatsuki...you're a ninja, our resident medic and a fierce fighter. You're our youngest member, just sixteen years old, and very skilled...I'm not surprised you don't recognise this place though, we've only just re-located. The reason you're so hurt, is because our base was attacked when you were the only one home. We don't know quite what happened yet, only that the building burned down and you somehow survived and escaped to the forest before collapsing. I had actually hoped you could tell me something about the event." He sighs at that, and she cringes at the sound. She's disappointed him, after all.

But a ninja? Her? A fierce fighter? She doesn't feel anything like the kind of person he described. She didn't even recognise the damage to her hands as burns, though from the sound of what he says it must be. Even if she was a medic once, she isn't one now, not now she can't remember anything of herself beside this injured, fragile thing.

"Itachi," She tries out, feeling the name, so new in her mouth, "I...what will happen now? I can't do any of the things you said, I don't know how-"

"Shh. None of that matters yet, I didn't intend to distress you."

"But I'm useless like this, I don't know anything about being a ninja, or a medic or anything. I'll just be a burden to you." She tries to sit up, fear that he might leave, might deem her unworthy, lending her strength. But he pushes her back down with a gentle finger across her lips.

"Don't strain yourself. Sakura, you are a strong woman, and I do not believe that has changed. Rest, other problems can be overcome in their own time. Now you need to heal." And his eyes begin to spin, so close and so mesmerising that any reply she might have made is lost.

Her mind slides towards slow unconsciousness as he rises, but as he turns away she manages to call to him, though it comes out barely above a whisper. "Don't go, please. Stay." Because if he goes, if he leaves her she doesn't trust that he'll return.

Between heavy lashes she sees him turn, visibly surprised for a moment. His gaze scorches her in a new way, making her breath catch, almost afraid. But then he smiles, just slightly. "I will return, Sakura. Now sleep."

And at his words, the last tension of the day drains from her, and the world winks out to blissful unconsciousness once again.

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><p>Itachi slips down two flights of stairs to the main room, where his own, more substantial food is waiting. The rice gruel has thickened in the pot, but he stirs in some honey and eats it easily enough. His mind is more preoccupied by the recent events of Sakura's awakening than the blandness of his meal.<p>

It was a dangerous experiment, wiping someone's memories so thoroughly clean, but he had seen similar things done when he was a child so he had known it was possible. It is amusing to watch her, seeing how different her personality and reactions are, unwarped by time and experience. Somewhat unsettling too, to see how much her responses have changed, but he trusts that the core spark that led her to the shinobi way of life is still alive in her.

He knows, from sifting through her memories, that her potential is greater than he had originally thought, which changes his plans somewhat. But for now, she is still very weak and open to suggestion, especially as she seems to have anchored him to the few threads of memory left regarding his brother.

Academically, it is very interesting to see how her mind works, how its immovable foundations have been shaped – in fact he isn't seeing a blank of her personality at all, because so much of her mind is built on those pivotal experiences. He could have removed them, indeed he was tempted to at the time, but now he's sure this way is better. Any more and even the inklings of recognition would have been denied her, maybe even the power of speech.

As it is, she doesn't seem to realise how much of her past is still present; doesn't notice as he does the way her chakra is acting even now to help heal her burns. And now he knows that seeing him hasn't triggered the return of her memories, he is confident that those foundational threads can be turned to his advantage.

But all things in good time. For now, there is washing up to do, and after that a discussion to have with Kisame. Speculation and planning can wait.

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><p>Reviews, as always, will be loved, stashed away, and treasured forever. Coming up next, chapter 3: <em>First Steps<em>


	3. First Steps

Thanks for the response guys, I'm loving how many of you have faved and alerted, and special appreciation goes to those of you who have reviewed. Now, on with the tale!

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><p>The weather is starting to turn as Itachi leaves the old farmhouse where Sakura lies sleeping; the spring is turning slowly to summer as the breeze warms, and in the centre of the enclave small white flowers form a sparse carpet. This will not last long, as the space between the abandoned buildings is large enough to use for sparring, but since arriving most of the time has been spent making the houses comfortable.<p>

The highest, largest house is where Kisame is spending his day – they agreed the building would make a good central space, and Itachi's partner took on the task of fixing the place up, rather than keep watch over their captive.

Itachi finds Kisame on the ground floor, using tightly controlled water jutsu to clean dirt from the walls and windows. Picking over the muddy floor, he sits on the stairs and watches between the treads as the stream of water soaks the last wall. It only takes a couple of minutes before his partner deems the walls finished, and with a quick set of hand-seals sends the murky water on the floor flying outside. The hissing of water now gone, he wastes no more time.

"She has woken."

Kisame perks up at this, and turns his attention from the doorway. "Finally! Thought she'd be up sooner, but I guess it's just as well. More time to prepare these dumps this way. But did it work?"

"Better than I had anticipated. She has no recollection of her past, yet she retains some of her skills and is thoroughly suggestible. It seems the more core memories remain in an unconscious form, but her mind tries to fit the current circumstances to them. On an instinctual level, I believe she mistakes me for my brother."

"Hah!" Kisame grins at this, clearly tickled at the irony of the situation. "So she thinks you're the teammate she tried to save, rather than her teammate's killer? That's fucked up." He nods to himself once more, and Itachi does not bother to correct him. Sasuke, he's sure, is still alive...but his partner does not need to know that.

"She will need to meet you soon, probably before Deidara and Tobi arrive. Not today, I think, as she's still very weak. Unless you would like to visit her by her sickbed?"

"Nah, not today. I want to finish sorting this place out, and then clean up one of the other buildings for myself. Now she's not critical you won't be stuck watching over her, so we ought to get things moved on. I'm tired of sleeping down by the fire in that place, I'm going to sort myself out some proper stairs that don't _bend_ when I step on them." Itachi looks at the thin slats beneath him and hums agreement. These houses were clearly not designed with anybody of Kisame's stature in mind, and it stands out even more in the smaller house where Sakura is being kept.

"Very well. I shall take on the rooms upstairs in here, and you are welcome to pick out any of the remaining houses. If you need extra wood, there are some superfluous timbers in the cliff house which should be used before resorting to removing structural pieces."

"Yeah, sure. Reckon we can do it by sun-down?"

Itachi stares at his partner blandly for a moment before nodding. It will be a challenge, but with no fights on the horizon, Kisame is prone to making such unnecessary work for himself. If it keeps the man satisfied, it's a small sacrifice to make.

"See you when we're done then!" And Kisame strides off into the sunlight.

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><p>The world is very strange, faded to monochrome yet splashed with red so vivid she almost can't look at it. She's in a room, one she's never seen before, with a raised bed, a mirror, and a black window without a view. She tries to look out of it, but there's nothing but dizzying darkness to see, so she turns back and looks some more.<p>

Ah, a door at the far end. She tries it, but the handle doesn't turn and there's no keyhole to peer through either. She tries knocking, but nobody comes and her fists are black against the grey wood. She curls them curiously, realising she feels no pain, and suddenly is overcome with the urge to examine her own face.

The mirror works where the window is blank, reflecting her in shades of grey against the red wall behind. Her frame is slender, smaller than Itachi's but not by a lot, her hair sweeping past her shoulders and pale, almost white. Her eyes are wide set and her nose small but straight, and when she frowns there's no pain there either. She reaches back to gather her hair round and hold its full length, but she feels nothing. She blinks in confusion, but in the mirror all she can see is herself staring back, looking almost angry.

She shakes her head to clear the idea, and the mirrored girl does likewise, flaunting her long locks. It's too much. Sakura closes her eyes and works by feel instead, fingertips confirming the truth of her facial features before hesitantly stroking up to her hairline. With an odd rich of relief she feels hair where she expected it, but as she runs her fingers back it springs free. It's short, unevenly so, smooth in places and oddly frizzy in others. She opens her eyes but in the mirror her hands are hidden by long tresses.

Is it really a mirror? She reaches out to touch it-

And wakes in darkness with a start as a door slams somewhere beneath her.

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><p>Kisame grins at the picture Itachi makes, sitting cross-legged by the fire with neat bowls of ingredients arranged around him. It's amusing how in their partnership, Itachi ends up being the wifey domestic one, even though he calls the shots most of the time too.<p>

"Is the kid still sleeping then? I thought you'd wake her up once you were done." He runs a hand through his hair to dislodge splinters of wood before stepping from the dirt entrance to the shining wooden floor. Even though it's too small for his tastes, he has to admit Itachi did a good job of doing the building up in the week they've been here.

His own house, at least the one he's claimed, is never going to look this polished, but then he mainly wants somewhere sturdy, with space. Plus his place has a well just out the back, which is really convenient if he wants to train alone. He's never lived anywhere as pretty as _this_ building, and he doesn't intend to any longer.

"I decided to wait until I had food prepared, as she seems uncomfortable with me leaving her."

"That attached already, eh?" He raises his eyebrows, impressed. "How did you manage it? I know you're pretty and all, but there's a reason why I've never seen you with a woman."

Itachi doesn't scowl, but Kisame knows him well enough that the expression is unnecessary. "I do not consort with women because I have no wish to be killed in my sleep by a kunoichi who trades on her body. I have done nothing extraordinary to garner Sakura's affection, merely avoided intimidating her and let her subconscious equation of me with my brother stand."

Kisame scoffs, this is Itachi they're talking about after all. He pretty much radiates danger. But Itachi just continues cooking in his usual unflappable way, murmuring "I have plenty of experience playing the role of harmless friend. You will see for yourself what I mean later."

Conversation over, reads the disinterest in his partner's face. So Kisame shrugs and takes a seat on the camp-bed where his beloved Samehada lays. It hasn't had much use lately, but maintenance is important as ever, so until the food is ready he picks through the scales and sharpens each edge with a file.

He's less than half way through when Itachi stands and passes him a bowl of something unexpected – rice, but with meat of some kind. The smell or real food after days of bland broth, rice, rice and more rice makes him perk up. "Hey, where did you get meat from? I thought we were going to have to wait till Deidara got in before we got more supplies in."

"There was a copper pheasant nesting in the roof of the main building. I have seven eggs as well, you will be glad to hear."

"Not bad. I thought I was going to go mad with all this..." He gesticulates vaguely at the sacks of rice standing in the corner, "White crap."

Itachi makes a vaguely amused sound, before returning to the fire. There's silence for a few moments as Kisame turns his full attention to the meal. All too soon there's nothing left in the bowl but rice, so he stops eating nicely and shovels the rest down at top speed while the flavour of meat still lingers. He un-seals his water bottle and takes a long gulp before gathering together his bedding.

"Right, I'm going to move out of this place while you go and check on our little princess. Have fun playing the nice guy." And slinging Samehada over his shoulder with his free hand, he heads for the door.

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><p>Let me know what you think, I've never written these guys together before and feedback would be uber-helpful! Next up, chapter 4: <em>The Wide World<br>_


	4. The Wide World

Next chapter up, slightly longer this time. Enjoy!

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><p>Another door slam, but this time she's not asleep. Does that mean she's alone now? There were voices from below before, at least two but maybe more. Why don't they come up and visit her? Sakura feels restless, has felt that way since waking – the room is dark and empty, her stomach is aching with hunger, and there's nothing to do but worry.<p>

But there – footsteps on the stairs. And then there's a light, a jumping flame held in front of a familiar figure. "Itachi!" She calls, too glad of his presence to be embarrassed by her outburst. He nods, and in his other hand she notices a bowl, the same one as before.

Her stomach gurgles, and when he has set down both candle and bowl, she helps him sit her up more properly, using her hands to help slide her self into a more upright position. The sheets fall down and the air is chilly on her skin, but the backrest of his leg is warm enough that she doesn't care. He seems to though, and tucks the sheet back around under her arms, pinning it in place with his supporting leg.

"Do you want to try feeding yourself?" He asks, holding up the white spoon. Sakura nods, and takes it despite the protests of her sore fingers. It's not just rice this time, there are chunks of something brown and sticky, and she takes some of that first. Before she can take a bite, Itachi's free hand grabs her wrist.

"Do not be impatient, you will only burn yourself." And he blows it cooler, slowly, slowly, before letting her go. He was gentle, but it feels strange all the same, that he can overpower her so easily. The food is almost too hot even after his caution though, so she keeps a tight reign on her appetite and proceeds with as much patience as she can muster.

The meat is good, and she wonders how she knows what it is, how she recognises the rice too. Then again she knows she's in a bed, and in a house, and she can talk too. So...what, really, has she forgotten? Is it anything that really matters in the long run, or is Itachi right when he says she just needs to get well?

Chewing the last of the meat, Sakura braces herself, then carefully turns to find the water. It's lukewarm from a day sitting by her bedside, and the bottle is almost too big to hold in one hand. She manages though, and gulps down until it feels as though her stomach is flooded and her thirst fades to vague nausea. Itachi just watches, a vaguely amused expression on his face. "So hasty. There is plenty of time, you do not need to strain yourself."

She wrinkles her nose at him, disagreeing entirely. It has been less than a day, but she wants out of this bed, wants to get well and _do_ things before he tires of her weakness. She wants to meet the others, whoever they are, and maybe even – she allows herself the hope even though she doubts it – recognise them.

Then her bladder begins to complain and her desire to get up changes from longing to need. Again, it's embarrassing to have to ask, but then...it's only to her that he feels like a stranger, not the other way round. She swallows her nerves and asks. "Can you help me get up, to the bathroom?"

He simply nods, tugging the blankets free and hooking one arm beneath her legs before lifting her into a crouch and then _springing_ – there is no other way to describe it – to his feet. His grip is firm but the sheer amount of motion is slightly overwhelming, and he only exacerbates Sakura's the problem by leaping down to the floor below rather than taking the stairs.

He lands silently, and she has a moment to stare at another empty room with a similar layout, slightly wider and with a pack beside the bed, before he leaps again. Disorientated, she stares upwards at the gap in the ceiling, realising he must have jumped to the right, just outside her field of vision. Then her attention returns to the room.

The air is warm and pungent with smoke; a fire is burning in the centre of the room, pots of leftover food and a pair of empty bowls standing beside it. Itachi strides pat the scene though, from wood to earth, and out into the chilled night air. The sudden temperature drop makes Sakura shiver hard, and she curls into the heat between their bodies, eyes closed. A moment later though, and they halt. Then she's being lowered and turned away from that last pocket of warmth and it's all she can do to keep her teeth from chattering.

Her feet register a smooth, ice-cold surface, and her legs buckle, but she doesn't fall. Itachi's warm hands are gripping her sides firmly, supporting her in the darkness. "There," He says soothingly, "I have you, do what you must."

She stares at him through the gloom, mortified to have him watching, yet grateful for the warmth those hands provide. She can't just...let go, with him right there. But then his eyes begin to spin, almost glowing in the moonlight, and all those tensions disappear from her mind. It's just him and her and the attentiveness of his gaze, nothing else. No house, no cold, no harsh dismissals from him. She feels positively bathed in comfort.

And then he blinks, and the feeling slowly fades. There's a clicking sound in her ears, and it takes Sakura a moment to realise that her teeth really are chattering now. Her embarrassment returns full force when she registers the comfort of her pelvic area, and she is glad when he hands her soft paper and the whole ordeal is over.

He lifts her up and carries her back inside immediately, sitting by the fire with her in his lap and adding more wood. The flames leap up around the thin logs, giving out almost too much heat after the cold. The intensity of it makes her skin ache all down her left side, but Itachi's hands shield her from the worst of it.

Watching the flames flickering slows her mind. She still feels uncomfortable at being so helpless, but who knows...maybe this isn't the worst thing she's endured. Itachi said she was strong, and she's made it this far, hasn't she?

Her eyes flutter closed before her thoughts finish, and she slips into a world of running feet, reaching out to their backs but still behind, always behind them.

* * *

><p>Itachi watches the sleeping girl in his arms until he's sure she won't wake up, then leaves the fire and carries her back to the top room. With no reference point, it's no surprise that Sakura hasn't noticed how fast she's healing, but to him, it is amazing. Even when she was unconscious, even now in sleep, her chakra flows in the patterns of a healing jutsu – far less effective than one actively performed, but nonetheless surprising.<p>

Her bandages need changing tonight, but by tomorrow she may have outstripped the need for them. He leaves her in her bed, uncovered for the moment, and fetches fresh dressings from his own room, a floor beneath. The blistered skin of her left side is noticeably less red than this morning when he last changed her, and on the right hand side fresh skin is beginning to show through. The healing process has sped up significantly since her first awakening, probably helped by food as much as consciousness.

Taking care not to wake her, Itachi rubs burn salve – an old recipe handed down through the Uchiha clan due to regular training accidents – into her skin. This is one of the main reasons he has not shared the duties of her care; he does not trust Kisame to be gentle enough or professional enough when the girl is vulnerable like this.

But where is partner would see a sleeping, naked woman, Itachi recalls his brother. The memory of tending to Sasuke after he got too close to someone else's sparring match stays in the forefront of his mind as he re-binds her breasts, and the sound of their mother singing the pair of them to sleep is so close as to be almost audible.

At last everything is fresh and clean, and he tucks her back under the covers almost absent mindedly. Sasuke is older and stronger now, but he can't help wondering what has happened. Most likely he has been taken into custody, but Itachi trusts that Konoha will be lenient.

There is no point considering such things now though, he knows his path will cross his brother's again in future, and until then he has other things to do. The dishes are waiting for him downstairs.

* * *

><p>Samehada is in perfect condition, humming softly with chakra, bound by fresh bandages, every scale razor sharp. And the morning isn't even half gone yet. Kisame curses softly under his breath and props the sword by his pallet. He's finished setting up his house to his satisfaction, his gear is all in order, and if he spends any longer doing fuck-all he'll go mad.<p>

Maybe Itachi will be up for a little hand-to-hand.

Kisame ambles into the bright morning, stretching in the sunlight for a long moment before turning to the shade of Itachi's place. He can't think why anybody would choose somewhere so claustrophobic, but maybe Itachi likes the woods behind enough to make up for it.

The door is shut, and he knows how little Itachi likes being woken, so he turns away and begins warming up alone. Stretches, some basic kata, and then on to jutsu. He loves the feeling of chakra running through his body, buzzing and powerful and _alive_.

The jets of water he shoots into the sky are like a shout of defiance against this peaceful place, and he manipulates them into a mass of liquid senbon. Turning, he sends them to strike the cliff face overhanging the most derelict building, where they impact hard enough to spray a dusty rainbow against the skyline. It's not as good as a battle, but he still feels satisfied as debris rains down from the mountainside.

He's gathering his chakra again when he hears a door opening and Itachi appears, and pauses at the expression on his partner's face.

"You woke Sakura, and now she is asking to meet you. Come."

"What?" He scowls past Itachi's head at the indifferent building behind. "I've only just got started. Can't she wait?"

"No. We are playing the role of concerned allies. She heard you last night as well, if you keep avoiding her it will appear suspicious."

The tone of Itachi's voice brooks no argument, and Kisame knows better than to aggravate his partner. With a sigh he reins in his chakra. "Right. But I'm not going up those goddamn stairs, that whole building's too weak. Oh. Or she could come out here and watch us spar or something."

He expects a flat refusal, given Itachi's demeanour, but after a moment's thought the smaller man nods and turns back to the house. Kisame grins at his own cleverness, and heads back to his own place to collect a brace of kunai. No need to scare the little thing with Samehada straight off after all, there's plenty of time to introduce her to more interesting weapons later.

The sun is in his eyes as he heads back towards Itachi's, and the first sense he has of her is her voice emanating from the interior.

"...it be dangerous?" She's asking, softly but without an obvious note of fear. Then "Oh!" as he walks closer. But it isnt him she's looking at, her eyes are trained on the scene surrounding them – on the steep, crinkled layers in the cliff face, on the other buildings and the patch of sparse meadow in the centre, on the peaks visible beyond.

It's oddly gratifying, that he should seem insignificant for once. Usually people notice his strange colouring and large stature before anything else. This way gives him time to look at her properly for the first time without getting caught staring.

She's slender, the shirt she's wearing hanging off her frame even though Itachi is practically a waif himself. For sixteen, she looks more like a child than most shinobi, but that's partly down to her expression. Not even a fresh new genin looks so open...Itachi must have done a damn thorough job on her.

When she finally notices him he tries to smile without baring his teeth too much; he knows it frightens people to see how animalistic he looks. She smiles back, unguarded, and he gathers all his powers of deception to put on a genial front. "So, cherry-pie. You're up and about. Good to see you again." He wants to add a 'we were so worried about you' or something, but the strangeness of it might make him laugh.

"It's nice to...well, not meet you, but. Yeah." She ducks her head into Itachi's shoulder and Itachi glares at him to try harder.

He tries again. "Well we can do proper introductions later. For now, why don't you sit tight and watch us spar?" She nods but doesn't meet his eyes, and Itachi sets her down without comment.

Then they take their places in the field, and the day finally gets good.

* * *

><p>I'm away for the weekend but with any luck I'll still be able to upload. Next up, chaper 5 - <em>Facing Up<em>


	5. Facing Up

Okay, so this is a little late. But hey, it's long to make up for it. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Sakura can't help but feel nervous as the two men face each other. Itachi suddenly doesn't seem quite as big, not next to Kisame's bulk. And though she's one of them, the sight of knives gleaming in each man's hands so easily is frightening. If she's supposed to be their medic, what will she do if they hurt themselves?<p>

The men suddenly spring into motion, perfectly in sync. The sound of their blades clashing rings out, but in the main it's swamped by the overpowering feeling Sakura experienced earlier, the one which brought her from sleep to full alertness in an instant.

It rolls through her, tugging the air tight in her lungs, and she knows, beyond any doubt, that this feeling is no stranger. She can feel the buzz in the air, the playfulness of the combatants, and feels like she's come home.

They break apart in front of her, arms moving almost too swiftly to see in a series of complimenting strikes and blocks. Itachi twists and spins more, Kisame puts more force behind his strikes and there's more harshness in his movements, less flow. But the sheer _weight_ of his presence keeps him even with Itachi's quick blades.

She doesn't notice that the blanket has fallen open, revealing her bare legs, or the fact that she's no longer leaning against the wall to support her. She barely remembers to breathe for the next few minutes, until the two figures finally reach a deadlock, each holding a blade just short of harm – Itachi's hand at Kisame's leg, Kisame's kunai threatening Itachi's exposed side. There's a moment of stillness as their presences diminish, before they break apart and stand normally, looking over at her.

"What d'you think, Sakura? Seem familiar?" Kisame calls, grinning broadly as the pair of them walk over.

Sakura feels her own smile is at least as wide. "Yeah. I don't remember exactly, but that thing you do...not the fighting, but the-" She doesn't have a word for it, but gesticulates at her chest, trying to describe the sensation.

Itachi leans down, eyes searching hers as if he could read her mind from them. "Do you mean this?" He asks softly. And then she's surrounded by that feeling again, the sense of her whole body coming _alive_ in response to his own...whatever it is. She nods, unable to form words with the intensity of it, so close and personal.

Then just as fast, it's gone again, and Itachi crouches down fully in front of her. "That is chakra. That is the energy that every living thing possesses. And awareness of it is limited to a very few people – shinobi, some religious sects, and the occasional civilian with natural aptitude."

Chakra. Shinobi. Suddenly the task of becoming what she's supposed to be anyway isn't so daunting. The idea of fighting to hurt someone still seems strange, but she can see that moving like that – with intent and poise and swiftness – combined with that heady feeling of chakra, must feel wonderful.

"When can I learn? What will I need to do?" She asks, eager and impatient to begin immediately. Kisame chuckles at that and crouches down too, sharing a glance with Itachi.

"Well, little'un, you need to be able to walk about on your own first. But then we'll train you up. It won't be easy, but I guess since you've done it all before it might be easi_er_. And it might be helpful if we got some clothes sorted out for you first." And with that he flicks the blankets back over her.

She looks down at herself and wonders what the problem is. Both men are sweating with exertion, there's no way she would need to worry about getting cold. But then again she hasn't seen either of them without clothes on, so maybe she normally dresses like that too. Unsure if she's about to make a fool of herself, she asks: "What happened to my clothes before then?"

"They were burned in the fire," Itachi replies, "And the clothes you were wearing at the time were too badly damaged to be kept."

Kisame glances between the two of them before adding his own advice. "You could probably get away with wearing Itachi's stuff if you rolled the sleves and legs up, but only for walking. He might be close to your size, but fighting in baggy stuff's hard."

Itachi doesn't look too pleased by the idea, but he nods anyway. "If you would like, I will take you upstairs now to get changed."

She agrees, even though it's nice to be out here in the light, with the breeze and the wide sky above. It's not going to disappear or anything, so she might as well get dressed to enjoy it properly. As Itachi lifts her in his arms she has a momentary fear that she might have forgotten how to walk and be obliged to learn again from scratch. But she's too delighted with the day to worry for long. It feels like everything is falling into place.

#

Itachi watches warily as Kisame helps their captive walk around the small section of flat ground directly outside his house. He hasn't had the time to discuss anything in detail with his partner since Sakura regained consciousness yesterday morning, and the situation has changed somewhat. Some of the unknowns when they brought her here are now apparent, and not everything has turned out according to his predictions.

He had been expecting days of slow rehabilitation, not just a few short hours where Sakura transformed from a completely disoriented patient into the girl before him now – trusting, totally convinced by the lies they've spun, and determined to get back on her feet.

She's still in pain, he can see it in her movements, but it occurs to him that she may not realise it if her memories of good health are so thoroughly suppressed. That, and she's still healing herself at a significant rate. Soon she will be settled enough for her mind to lose its current plasticity, much sooner than he anticipated originally.

He needs to hurry Deidara and Tobi's arrival. Then again she needs clothes, so he has the perfect excuse to be away from the base without arousing her suspicion. Not that there's much chance of doing that, with the current, untrained state of her mind.

Walking over casually, he assesses Sakura's strength. Even a few minutes of walking has sapped her energy, and her lips are pursed in concentration. "You are tiring fast, it would be best to take a rest."

She flashes him one of her strange looks at that – a half-wary expression as if he might chastise her – but doesn't argue. Maybe she is more fatigued than she seems, maybe she just accepts his judgement. Either way, he is more comfortable leaving Kisame in charge of her if she's stationary and can be left alone. His partner is a formidable fighter, but because of his remarkable physical features he's never had cause to learn much about lying. The less conversation between the two, the better.

"I will make a journey to the lowlands an procure some clothes for you. Kisame, I will obtain more meat for you, if you wish."

"Sure. Back by dinner?" Kisame asks, and Itachi nods a confirmation before the strange pair – blue and pink, huge and tiny – turn to walk indoors.

It's a long way to the base of the mountains and the first proper towns, so without further preparation Itachi heads for the cliff path to the lowlands.

The journey is quicker for shinobi than it is for civilians of course – there's no need to follow the winding flat path back and forth down the cliff side when chakra allows him to walk down the near-sheer face instead. Nevertheless it's a long way to travel, and though the scenery is stunning it's too craggy for Itachi to truly enjoy.

Mountains are a convenient place to hide, but the same environment that conceals their new base so effectively can be exploited by anybody, and his senses are on full alert as he descends. Eventually, the layered rock gives way to shallower ground and sparse woodland, which thickens until the canopy blocks almost all the light.

Travel here is quicker, though harder to conceal due to the thrumming wildlife all around. Birds fly up all around, and he makes a pair of shadow clones to split away on different routes, just in case the forest is being observed. On the way back, if he has time, it may be worth taking some time to hunt as well – supplies from a town require less preparation, but if he steals too much it will not go unnoticed.

When the cover of the wood begins to break down he henges, taking on an unassumingly brownish appearance and reining in his chakra just enough to pass as a civilian. The sun in already past its zenith, and by the time he comes in sight of the small market town it is low enough in the sky to impair Itachi's vision a little more. He is used to working by sound and scent as much as sight though, and when he enters the town the buildings protect his eyes from the worst of the glare.

The shops will not close for another hour or two, so before searching for supplies or clothing he makes for a small guest-house near the town's centre – the one they stayed in while travelling from Sound. There he plays the role of messenger, saying he needs to speak to one of the guests in room six. His current henge does not match the one he used before, so the receptionist does not realise he stayed there just a week ago.

He cannot be certain that Deidara and Tobi have chosen the same room, but he made sure to leave traces of chakra around the building to direct them, which means they will be if they have not distracted themselves too much by fighting. If the occupants aren't his comrades, he will simply have to flash his chakra to attract their attention – there's no evidence to suggest he's been followed so it is unlikely to be noticed by anybody but its intended targets.

When he knocks on the door he hears an excited voice on the other side which immediately clears any doubts up.

"Ooh, someone's knocking! Who do you think-"

"I don't know, be quiet. I'll get it, yeah." The man who opens the door looks nothing like Deidara, but the expression of distaste on his face as Itachi lets his chakra leak gives him away. "Oh. Come in. What's happened?"

Itachi takes a seat on the nearest bed while Deidara stays standing, almost blocking the exit. Both men ignore Tobi, who is bouncing with excitement on the other bed. "There have been some unexpected developments, and you will both need to come to the base early."

Deidara raises an eyebrow. "Weren't you able to do it properly?" He asks, then grins. "Do you need help getting information out of the bitch?"

"You appear to be misinformed. You were directed to come here to assist with the integration of a former Leaf ninja, Sakura Haruno-"

"Whose memories you were supposed to erase, yeah. But if you've not managed I assume there's nothing else we want from her but info." Deidara interjects.

"I have not failed in suppressing her memories, the reason I am here is simply because she is recovering her strength and mental stability faster that anticipated. You need to present yourselves as allies while her mind is still receptive to suggestion." Itachi refrains from rolling his eyes at the sulky expression on Deidara's face. This mission would be simpler without backup for the most part, but when the Kyuubi jinchuuriki turns up he will not be alone, and even Naruto alone is not an adversary to be taken lightly.

"Right. What's the line we're feeding her then? Tobi, make sure you listen carefully 'cause you'll blow it otherwise." Tobi hops up and plonks down on the bed beside Itachi, masked face disturbingly close. It is hard to keep his face impassive, but he manages.

"She was our medic, and a strong fighter. Feel free to expand upon her abilities within the bounds of what we know. The reason she is injured is because the base we used to live in burned when she was the only one present. We do not know the details, and because she has amnesia we never need to. This explains the lack of possessions and clothing we have for her, and also the seriousness of her burns. Nothing else of importance has been mentioned yet, we can discuss details tomorrow, after you join us."

"Wait, tomorrow? Why not now?"

"Now I am leaving to complete the tasks I have declared I am here for. Tomorrow will give us time to prepare her and will not appear to be so much of a coincidence. Set out by air at dawn, and fly directly between the two largest peaks. We are staying in an abandoned cluster of houses set on the edge of a cliff, it should be clearly visible to you from above." Not bothering to take farewells, Itachi stands and strides from the room. These next few weeks are going to test his patience.

#

She's back in the room again, the space feeling cramped and over-full after a day outside with the vast mountains all around. The colouring jars her senses more this time too, no blues or warm grey-browns, no green of plant life. The window is still black, and it occurs to her to wonder how there's light in here.

There's no light bulb in the ceiling, nor a lamp on the table, nor anything to give light. But she can see anyway. After a few minutes considering how unreasonable this is, Sakura rises from the bed and peers once again into the mirror.

The other girl is still there, staring hard back at her, and again Sakura is struck by the feeling that the girl is glaring. She wants to reach out and touch the surface again, but not to wake up. So she paces in front of it, watching the other girl swish her way back and forth, both of them looking frustrated.

Then she stops and stares at the surface. She's by the door now, and it isn't her double's image she can see from here. No, there's something stranger than that. The window, opposite her now and solid black, looks completely different in the mirror. It's light, and more than that it's coloured like the real world, mostly showing blue sky and strange, round buildings.

Keeping the angle she creeps forward, half expecting something to _happen_. But nothing much does. A bird flies past outside in the reflection, then stillness returns. Carefully, almost trembling with anticipation, she grasps the frame – plain white and smooth to her touch, and carries it over to the window, walking backwards to see the view.

She ends up standing with her back pressed to the cold black glass, the mirror raised up to look over her own shoulder to the street below. Her not-reflection looks back at her for a moment, before they both focus on the world outside.

There's a street below, with people walking back and forth. Lots of people, walking in and out of shops, talking together though the silence in the room remains absolute. They're dressed differently to Itachi and Kisame mostly – less skin covered and brighter colours making a shifting rainbow of the road.

One girl in particular stands out, emerging from beyond Sakura's line of vision, from the floor below her maybe, or possibly next door. Her clothes are revealing, bright purple almost too strong against her golden hair. And she, as nobody else has, looks up at the window. Smiles and says something, but Sakura can't hear anything. Unthinking she presses her ear to the mirror, as if it can somehow let her through to this strange world.

But all that happens is her eyes open, dazzled by the morning sunlight.

#

Itachi finds his charge already awake when he gets up, sitting up in bed and watching the covered window with a frown on her face and her water bottle in her hands. She studies him with unusual intensity as he draws closer, for the first time appearing analytical. It is just as well that Deidara and Tobi are due to arrive soon.

"Have you been awake long?" She shakes her head, then drains the last drops of water from her bottle and smiles brightly. It looks a little forced, but he doesn't comment.

"Just had weird dreams, it's fine. Anyway, I want to see my new clothes, can you get them?"

He nods, privately amused that she is every inch a woman, even though she has no memories of common female behaviour. When he returned the evening before she was already asleep, worn out, according to Kisame, by a day of walking and exploring the area. Itachi isn't sure she should be allowed to push herself so hard, but it doesn't appear to have set her back.

He leaps briefly to the floor below and returns with a paper bag with the essentials. Plain underwear, and bandaging from a chemists to bind her chest. Several pairs of soft leggings and thick, fur-lined boots, along with a lighter pair of sandals. There are no shops geared to ninja supplies within a day's journey, but he managed to find shirts like his own for her in the town, in practical shades of brown and olive green. Sakura is plainly delighted with all of this.

She tries on everything, exclaiming and posing and acting in an altogether more typical manner than he had expected. He averts his eyes as she dresses and undresses with a complete lack of self-consciousness. It doesn't make sense for her to be so attuned to one behaviour and not another, but there's nothing he can do except ride it out and try to give helpful responses.

"Yes, the green does suit you better. It matches your eyes."

It's not much different to any of his responses so far, but she stares at him, distracted from picking fluff from her sleeve. "My eyes? Are they green? I thought..." She rubs at her face, as if she can divine colour by touch. "Is there a mirror anywhere? I'd like to see myself."

A mirror? Itachi doesn't own one, and he's sure Kisame doesn't either. The windows might be usable if she is willing to wait until nightfall, but it might also be possible to use water. No. The well behind Kisame's house is too deep, it will have to wait. "Tonight I will show you in a window, I do not own a mirror myself."

She nods, then asks about breakfast. Today she seems more enlivened than ever, talkative and unreserved. It feels strange to have someone so unguarded around, and he finds it hard to watch with detachment as she wobbles on the steep stairs.

She sits too close for comfort as he cooks breakfast – near enough to hinder his options in the event of an attack, though he does not expect one. It is best to ignore her though, once she is trained a little such behaviours will surely fade, and she really isn't doing any harm. Itachi focuses on the food until his charge tires of watching and practices walking around the room, almost child-like in her interest.

It isn't until she gives a shriek that he realises how on edge he has been, despite his intentions. At the sound he finds himself in a fighting stance, shielding her from both the door and windows. But immediately he realises there is no danger. She's pointing out of the open doorway, and he can see quite well what is coming.

"That is our comrades approaching. They will arrive soon." He says by way of explanation, then returns as casually as possible to preparing their meal.

"Who are they?" Sakura asks, "And what should I know about them?"

He considers the pan of rolled omelette for a moment and chooses the most positive terms he can. "Well Deidara is the one who made the bird. He is an artist, and has a quick temper. Tobi wears a mask, and it would be best not to question him about it. He is very impulsive, but kind hearted too."

"And did I know them well, before?"

"Reasonably. You worked more with Kisame and myself, but I believe you were on good terms with both of them." She looks nervous, more so than when she met Kisame, and excuses herself to use the bathroom. Itachi isn't entirely happy to let her out of his sight, but there is no real reason to worry. She is physically capable of sorting her self out now, and he is more grateful than concerned by the fact.

While she is gone, the huge bird carrying Deidara and Tobi lands in the training area, and the two men hurry over. Itachi has a bare moment to say "Remember, she is your _ally_ now," and glare at the the pair of them, before she appears in the doorway.

She stares, eyes whirring with some thought process he doesn't comprehend, before stepping up to Deidara with her face creased in confusion.

"I...Ino?"

* * *

><p>Coming soon, chapter 6 - <em>A Change Of Plans<em>


	6. A Change Of Plans

Oops, sorry this has been so slow. I'm terribly behind with my word count...but hopefully that'll mean you see a whole bunch of new chapters in the next few days. Anyway, thanks for the continuing support and mounting story-alerts appearing in my inbox. You guys keep me going.

* * *

><p>This is insane. The colouring has reversed – this version is in black and red, not purple. But Sakura is <em>sure<em> she knows this...man? Not Ino. Who is Ino anyway? Her mind helpfully supplies images.

Slender, crouching beside her, holding flowers – sending a fist flying into her face, just as her own knuckles hit bone – sitting, crying for Asuma in the barbecue place. Oh god. Ino, her friend who is young and female and _never_ wears big black cloaks with red clouds on.

Akatsuki.

Half of her is reeling with the mismatch of her realisations – they can't be her enemies when Itachi has looked after her so well, surely? But the other half of her is screaming for her to act, to run.

So she slams a fist into Deidara's – oh of course, how could she have forgotten him? - unprepared body. Then she runs, harder and faster than ever before, channelling chakra to her feet. How could she have forgotten this?

There's shouting behind her as she plunges through the forest behind the house, but she pays it no heed. All she can do now is run, hide, and wonder what the hell happened to bring her here. They haven't tortured her for information, or even mentioned Naruto. Itachi was...she can hardly bear to think it, but he was _nice_ to her.

Does it mean Sasuke is dead? Or, worse, could they have caught Naruto and therefore no longer need to hunt him? That would explain why they haven't tried to get any information from her.

But there's no time to come to conclusions. With barely a sound, Itachi appears in front of her, grabbing her bodily before she can process the information from her eyes. She closes her lids reflexively, suddenly recalling the same situation only a few days – it must be, given the extent of her injuries on waking – ago.

Sakura is less afraid of injury this time, but knowledge of what Itachi must have done to her mind is infinitely more terrifying. She suddenly knows that, had Deidara not jogged her memory, she would be _on their side_ right now, and that must be what they want.

"Sakura, open your eyes. I will not hurt you."

"No." She mutters, frightened but defiant. "Fuck you Itachi." And then she tries to knee him in the balls. He blocks, and puts a hand round her throat. Her back hits a tree, but her eyes remain defiantly shut. There's nothing he can do worse than what he's already done, and Sakura is resolute in her defiance.

"Forgive me, but it is for your own good." He says, surprisingly calm, and before she has time to wonder what on earth he means, there are fingertips forcing her eyelids open, and her gaze locks with demon-bright red.

For a long moment she just watches him watching her, with that now-familiar intensity. But eventually, as the sound of the others pursuing draws nearer the tomoe in his eyes begin to whirl, and blackness descends.

* * *

><p>"What the fuck was all that about, yeah?" Is the first thing Deidara asks, as Itachi picks up the now-limp form of their captive.<p>

"Her memories returned." Is all Itachi can explain at present. The strain of searching through Sakura's mind this time through is greater than the first – there are odd cross-links through the landscape of her mind from recent experiences to old ones, and it proved disorientating. He thinks he understands now though, just what is happening when he uses the technique.

"I thought you said everything had worked. That didn't look like you'd had much success, more like you'd just messed up her head," Deidara sneers, "She's completely mental now."

Itachi grits his teeth, turning back towards home. "We will discuss the situation when everybody is present. For now, she is no threat." Silence falls for the next few minutes, broken only by the sound of their footfalls.

Tobi and Kisame are waiting on the edge of the woodland, battle ready and, in Kisame's case, grim faced. "Hey, what happened to the little'un? Did Deidara scare her or something? Hell, how come she's out cold?"

"She regained her memories. Come inside, this needs discussing in more detail." Itachi returns to the warmth of the fire and the untended breakfast, and the others follow, taking one side of the open fire each. The atmosphere is tense, but he forces himself to remain relaxed. This has complicated things, but the situation is still salvageable.

"So?" Prompts Kisame, taking one of the omelettes.

"It seems that seeing Deidara triggered a release of our captive's memories, she subsequently punched him and fled. I have subdued her and re-suppressed those memories, and in doing so discovered some important information. Firstly, she is a schizophrenic, which is probably why her mind is so resilient, however I have now suppressed this secondary personality's memories as well, which may reduce the chance of her memories returning.

"It seems, however, that at some point they _will_ return, as they form the fundamental structure of her mind. This poses a problem. The original plan was simply to train her up as an ally and use her to fight the nine-tails jinchuuriki. If her memories keep returning, this will be impossible, as we will have to set her back each time she remembers her loyalty."

"So what, now the whole mission is bust? Just because you can't keep her mind in check, yeah. That's such a pain." Deidara grumbles. Itachi glares at the man, used to the dislike that is returned when they lock eyes, but still irritated by it.

"No, the mission parameters just require altering. It will take time for her memories to return, so we have a reasonable window of opportunity. From her behaviour until now, and from my recent examination of her mental structure, I can conclude two things. Firstly, that she is liable to connect us to figures from her past on an unconscious level, and secondly that the bonds she has with those figures are not irreplaceable."

"So you mean if we keep her around long enough she'll stick with us even when her memories return again? I wouldn't bet on it," Says Kisame, "She's pretty feisty, I doubt she'd just forgive you for messing with her head."

"This is true. However, I took the time to study her memories, and the bonds she has with her team mates, though apparently strong, are not ties of happiness for the most part. My little brother scorned her affections and subsequently abandoned the village. The jinchuuriki Naruto Uzumaki irritated her during their childhood, and though they have since grown closer she fears him somewhat. Her team leader, Kakashi, paid little attention to her in her youth, and even now much of his time is spent training Naruto. Her relation with the Godaime is warmer, but less deeply entrenched. Her only other friends and colleagues making a sizeable impression on her psyche are her neighbour and only female friend, one Ino Yamanaka, who bares a great resemblance to you, Deidara, and-"

"To _me_?" Deidara splutters, "I don't look like a damn girl!"

"You have similar features, most notably your hair. As I was saying, the last of these is Sai, who is a replacement for Sasuke on the team. They do not know each other nearly as well though, and though in her recent past she spent a good deal of time with him, he is not so significant a part of her mental structure."

"Okay, so what's the point. You're saying if we're nicer than her comrades she'll turn against them once she remembers?" Kisame asks, brow furrowed. "I still don't think that will work."

Itachi sighs and takes a long overdue mouthful of food before concluding. "No, friendship alone will not. We must all forge stronger bonds with her, of camaraderie and attention and respect like she has never experienced before. On top of that, it would be wise if one of us were to take her as a lover."

There is a moment of shocked silence, before Tobi pipes up. "But Itachi, aren't you supposed to love a lover?"

"Shut up, idiot." Snaps Deidara. "Look Itachi, I'm not sick enough to want to bed a girl who's had her mind screwed over by you. And seriously, you think she won't be even more pissed off when she remembers if she also realises she was lied to about being in a relationship?"

"You misunderstand me. I do not mean we should fabricate an existing relationship, but that engaging her attention romantically as she rehabilitates will be the most effective way of keeping her with us. In the past, she was willing to risk her life for my brother, though her feelings for him were that of a girl, not a woman. I am convinced that if she fell in love with any of us, she would not be able to turn against us, even upon remembering her past."

The response is still less than warm, but there are no outright refusals this time. Deidara wrinkles his nose at Sakura, sprawled across Itachi's lap as she is. "Didn't you just say she liked your brother? Surely she'll just fall for you and the rest of us can keep our hands clean."

Itachi shrugs, mouth too full to respond more politely for a moment. "It is possible," he acknowledges, "But her feelings for him were never terribly strong, and I believe she has the potential to fall for any of us. It is not just the past to which we should refer, our behaviour now will have the biggest impact."

The pan is emptied as Kisame grabs the last of the breakfast, but a full mouth doesn't prevent _him_ from speaking. "So, if she takes you-" pointing at Itachi "-as your brother, who d'you reckon she'll attach the rest of us to?"

"Looking back through her most recent memories, she associated you with the copy ninja, Deidara with her friend Ino, and Tobi not at all yet. I left enough of her mind intact for her to recall my face and yours from the last few days, but it is possible her response to Deidara will be different this time."

"Makes sense, since I was teaching her to walk 'n all, yesterday. I can be sensei to her." Kisame grins, and the tension in the room becomes more bearable as Deidara follows suit, snickering softly at Kisame under his breath.

Itachi stands, Sakura limp in his arms. "If we are in agreement, I shall leave her in bed for now. Tobi, Deidara, you have three houses to choose from, and the rest of the day can be spent making whichever you choose fit for habitation."

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><p>All things considered, Deidara feels he has the best house. It may not be so well insulated as Itachi's, nor as close to the well as Kisame's, but it's still better. There are windows running all along the back, facing out to view over the edge of the cliff immediately behind. The morning light peeks round the mountain above them early, and floods those large windows with light all day. He has plenty of space, and some storage space on the top floor which can be used if he wants to stockpile clay. No bed, of course, but he's used to living rough.<p>

Tobi, on the other hand, has a stupid house to match his stupid self, and it's his own stupid fault. He could have chosen the little house beside Kisame's, with access to the well and the nice dry rooms. Instead he chose the house next door to Deidara.

It's on the cliff edge, but without the multitude of windows Deidara has, and shaded by a massive overhang above. It's cold and damp, and partially built into the cliff. In other words – stupid.

Still, it's better than sharing a room in the tiny town of Shutsu as they had to the last few days. The freedom of having a house to himself leaves him so relieved he can't help but feel great, even doing up an old house on the worst mission of the decade.

He'd rather brave danger and hardship alone than sit around here with _Itachi_, playing mind games with a girl he ought to hate. Only he doesn't, because in an odd way, she helped him win the long standing argument he had with Sasori. And he can remember the shattered battlefield, the ruptured graveyard it had become...it's sad to think that because of Itachi, Sakura might never be like that again.

And now the asshole wants to sleep with her on top of everything else. He's sure it's some kind of messed up plan to wreck Itachi's kid brother's life a little more, but he can't prove it. He could have made some kind of accusation during their 'meeting', but it wouldn't have helped.

No, he kept his mouth shut, so he can do the only decent thing without seeming suspicious. He'll keep her safely out of Itachi's way, and with the assumption being that they _all_ try to seduce her, it won't seem odd. It won't be easy, because he can't stand Leaf ninja and she's weak on top of that now too. But he's determined that the damn Uchihas won't wipe out another spirit as bright as hers.

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><p>And then there were four. Up next, chapter 7 - <em>Familiar<em>


	7. Familiar

I confess, I'm a bad person. I had this waiting for days before I actually got round to uploading...on the up-side, you can count on more regular updates for a while, as I've got another couple of chapters ready to post in the next few days. Would you rather slower, steadier updates, or everything at once? Let me know as I can do either!

Anyway, without further ado, chapter seven. Enjoy!

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><p>She wakes and stretches, luxuriating in the warmth under the covers against the cold air surrounding her exposed face. Tiring eventually of simply being in her own skin, she opens her eyes and looks about in the dim light. Bare wood is dark all around her, and after a moment's staring, she realises she's never seen this place before.<p>

So how did she get here? Where was she before this? Trying to rack her brain she gets up, pushing the covers back thoughtlessly and walking to the covered window. The blind is thick, creamy white paper, and she can't work out how to remove it so she carefully ducks under the edge to peer out at the morning.

The view is incredible. There's a field below her, a sort of meadow of dark green plants with white flowers dotting the surface. On the right it is bounded by a steep rise of layered rock, going up, up to a peak so far above she has to crane her neck to see it. At the base, where the near-sheer face meets the sloping meadow, there are a pair of houses. One is built directly underneath an overhang, and the other a little way away. Beyond them, the ground disappears, leaving a view of more distant mountainside wreathed in bright-white mist.

Most of her view is in half darkness though, the only bright light is on the left, where another house stands, set higher on top of a scree slope, and in the distant land below. In comparison these appear to glow with morning sun. She is enthralled by the scene, and doesn't hear anybody ascending the stairs at the far end of the room until they speak.

"I see you are awake." She whirls, hands coming up to attack and ripping away the hindrance of the paper screen, before she stops, confused at what she sees.

"Um. I know you, don't I?"

"Sakura? Yes, of course you know me. I am Itachi, remember?" He walks over to stand beside her, places a hand on her forehead. "We thought you more recovered than this. Your memory had not lapsed for days, we thought it would remain so."

"I'm sorry," She murmurs, feeling mortified. Itachi, she does remember him now, just a little. Smiling, feeding her. "I was hurt, wasn't I? And you helped me." It feels terribly rude to have forgotten something like that, but he doesn't seem angry.

"You were very badly injured when our old base burned down, and somehow your memories were robbed too. You've nearly recovered physically, but it seems your mind needs more time to heal." She nods, chagrined. She's let him down, and not for the first time by the sound of it.

"So...what do I do now?" She asks, staring into his face.

He smiles slightly, seeming to understand more than even she does from the question. "Now you come downstairs, and we have some breakfast, and fill you in on the important things. Are you hungry?"

Sakura nods, relieved, and follows him down the stairs. One thing at a time she can cope with, and food sounds wonderful right now.

#

This 'family' breakfast idea of Itachi's isn't, in Kisame's opinion, his partner's biggest flash of genius. It means there are more of them available to catch her if Deidara sets her off again, but it means they all have to act as if they get on well.

Kisame can do that, of course. He has self control and no childish hangups, but Deidara and Tobi are another matter. Well, Deidara is anyway – he dislikes both Itachi and Tobi intensely, and the chances of this meal remaining civilised with the three of them in one room seem small.

It's not actually too hard to put on a smile as the pair come downstairs though. "Morning princess, feeling better?" He calls, though Tobi's rather overdone cry of joy downs him out a little.

Deidara says nothing for a moment, then chimes in with a rather uninspired "Hi Sakura."

Oddly, it's Deidara at whom she smiles, and who she sits next to around the fire. For a moment she watches them all, but as Itachi starts to dish up the rice, she speaks. "I know it's going to sound silly, but I've lost my memory again." She begins. "I kind of remember you guys, but I can't put my finger on anything. So...would you mind introducing yourselves?"

There's no suppressing a wry grin at the way she puts it, so incredibly trusting. Itachi really is a genius, strange ideas about creating a family atmosphere or not. Since nobody else seems to want to, he begins. "Well cherry-pie, I'm Kisame. I..." He gathers his backstory mentally for a moment, then carries on. "I taught you sword fighting, back at our old place. You were a nifty little swordsman too, so when you feel up to it I'll do it again, if you like."

Her brow crinkles. "Sword fighting?" She asks, and he realises Itachi hasn't yet explained her profession. But before he can say anything, Tobi jumps in.

"You're a ninja Sakura! We're the best of the best, and you were our doctor. But I don't know what'll happ-" Deidara hits the idiot over the head.

"Tobi, you were meant to introduce yourself, not talk crap."

"But-"

"No. I'll introduce both of us. Sakura, I'm Deidara, our reconnaissance expert and not the only one here to owe you my life. Tobi here is useless and ignorant. You really are a shinobi though, and a talented fighter."

She looks nervous at this pronouncement, but Kisame isn't worried. He can remember how she reacted when she saw him spar with Itachi, how the battle-lust had come into her eyes and brightened her cheeks as pink as her hair. That's what makes her a shinobi really, in blood and soul, and when it comes down to it not even Itachi could erase that part of her.

Itachi is keeping to his wifey role, serving up breakfast in nice clean bowls and passing them around. He's cooked some more meat today, having grabbed some from the town, and Kisame enjoys the food too much to care about anything else for a while. Itachi an Deidara can keep an eye on the little one in the mean time.

Tobi and Deidara start bickering as usual, but this time there's a new sound – a bubble of laughter which cuts across and silences both more effectively than a glare or a threat could have. "It's okay, you can have some of mine Deidara, I'm not too hungry."

When Kisame looks up Sakura is holding out her last strip of meat to the surprised man next to her. "No, Sakura it's alright, really. You keep yours, Tobi can keep mine, and I'll just beat him up later in training." She shrugs at that, and eats the morsel with a fond smile on her face. It's a little bit freaky, how comfortable she seems with them all there, how deeply at ease.

A glance at Itachi reveals nothing helpful – he is watching her the same way Kisame himself is, an almost bemused expression on his face. Sitting there amongst them, exchanging pleasantries and collecting up the dishes with the insistence that she's happy to wash up after all the help they've given her...it's really not so implausible to think she could be one of them.

Sure, there's the size and power difference, but according to their intel she has potential. There's a chance this will prove more fun than the last few days led him to believe.

#

He offers to wash the dishes with her before Itachi does, feeling oddly protective after watching the bastard helping her down the stairs this morning. She's been left so vulnerable and trusting by the mindfuck she's gone through, it makes Deidara angry. Torture and interrogation are one thing, but plumbing the depths of someone's very character is just disgusting. And anyway, there's no real _need_ to do all this.

Even though he hates the man, he knows Itachi is powerful and intelligent enough to bring in the Kyuubi without resorting to kidnapping and brainwashing the jinchuuriki's team mates. _He_ had almost managed himself back in Suna, and it was only because the kid was so enraged over the Kazekage's death that he'd packed so much power.

But he already knew Itachi was a sadist. So he follows Sakura outside to the well and hauls up water for her. He ends up carrying the full bucket back too, 'cause he's not going to risk her overtaxing herself now. When she's not fired up on adrenaline like yesterday's débâcle, she's weak. Not horribly so, but enough that she'll be training up for a good long time to come.

He heats some water over the fire while she rinses off the worst of the dirt in cold. She's done before the hot is ready, and she leans over his shoulder with a casualness that Deidara finds completely alien. Personal space tends to be valued by missing-nin, and to actually lean on an S-ranked ninja for support? It must be years since anybody has touched him without killing intent behind their actions.

"What is it, yeah?" He asks, hardly able to keep his discomfort from colouring the words. She looks at him in the water's reflection and grins.

"I just wanted to see myself. There's no mirrors anywhere, and I want to know what I look like. It's not very clear though."

He sits up straighter, forcing her to let go of his shoulder and step back. Contact decreased, he turns and manages a smile. "Well the pan's not dark enough for you to get a good idea, but I can tell you the simple things." She nods and he begins to count off on his fingers; "One, you have pink hair, it stands out a lot. It's pretty ragged since the fire though, and a bit blackened in places. Your eyes are green and quite large. You aren't very tall, but then girls aren't-"

"Really?" She laughs. "Isn't it weird the things I forgot. I knew I was a girl, but I didn't know it really made a difference."

He stares at her, half disbelieving, but there's no pretence in her manner. "Surely you've noticed that girls are...differently shaped?" He's blushing and he knows it, so when she nods he decides not to elaborate. "Women are physically less strong, more emotional, and usually smaller than men. It doesn't make much of a difference though, not among shinobi."

That's a lie, but there's no way in hell he's going to explain the unique role kunoichi play in battling with their bodies. Even the thought of explaining just how and why men and women are differently formed makes him feel uncomfortable, let alone explaining sex as a weapon. He doesn't trust she could even really understand it, the way her mind has been warped.

The water is still a bit on the cool side, but the conversation has gone too far into dangerous territory, and he doesn't want to clam up. So he distracts her, holding up his hand and wiggling his tongues as if to a child. "Can you wash, and I'll dry? Only my hands don't like the taste of soap suds."

She gasps in surprise, but there's no fear in the sound. Crouching down, she takes the hand, holds it up close to her face and runs a finger over the fleshy lips. It tickles, being touched actively rather than grabbing smooth, cold clay, or harsh rock. She reaches for his other hand, dropping the first, and pokes at it, prying apart the lips. He waggles the tongue again to amuse her, and she giggles.

"How did you get those?" She asks, pressing one of her own, smaller palms against his. "My hands are just...hands."

"It's a bloodline," He shrugs, taking his fingers back and feigning disinterest now her attention is diverted. "Some ninja families have special traits that get passed down. My hands allow me to mould clay and...well I'll show you the art I make using it some time. You liked it, before the...whatever it was that happened. Before we came here."

There are no safe topics, it seems, as she cocks her head and asks; "What actually did happen? Did..." She pauses, and Deidara tenses, ready for an attack in an instant. But her memory hasn't returned, she's just uncomfortable. "Did anybody get hurt worse than me? Your family, my family...what happened?"

He would have had an easier time explaining sex to her.

"We didn't live with our families. They...we don't have family like most people do. You needn't worry, nobody else was there when it happened, so there were no other casualties. It means we don't know quite what happened, but that doesn't matter now."

"How come-"

"It doesn't matter," He snaps, then runs his hand through his hair, chagrined at having lost control, "Just ...wait until you're better before we re-hash old history, okay."

He can only hope they can work out a back-story by the time she looses patience. But for now Sakura nods, slightly wide eyed still, and he grins as kindly as he can. "So, can you remember how to wash dishes?" He asks, trying to recapture the playful tone of the conversation a moment before.

She laughs at that. "I'll see how I manage, but I think I can."

Her eyes don't match her smile though, and he can feel the weight of her gaze as he goes to find a dry tea-towel. Maybe she isn't so oblivious after all.

The thought should make him worry for the success of the mission, but instead he finds his fake smile easier to wear.

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><p>Feedback makes my fingers fly, so let me know what you havehaven't liked. Up next, chapter 8 - _In The Field_


	8. In The Field

Okay...well it's been a while. Sorry guys, I didn't mean to vanish for a year, but real life events have been distracting and I didn't see the time pass. But since it's November, I thought I should at least try to get some more of this posted. Enjoy!

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><p>This is the strangest afternoon Kisame has had in a while. He's been assigned to watch over Sakura until dinner, and – to put it in Itachi's terms – make the time productive. So here he is, explaining basic kata and naming weaponry.<p>

"Okay, so that's nearly right. You just need to bring your elbows in a little. Yeah, like that. That way you're protecting your face and your chest at the same time."

"I see. So then?" She looks up at him with wide, slightly worried eyes, and he fights a chuckle. The Sakura Haruno he read up on in the BINGO book was far more temperamental than this one. This girl really can't remember a thing about fighting. And yet her body is so well trained, so adapted to the stances and movements they're working on, that it's almost comical.

"Then you shift your weight to your front foot, step forward and kick like so-" He demonstrates, sweeping his leg slower than usual and pulling the kick just enough to miss her face.

"Like this?" She asks, copying him perfectly, though with her smaller stature her leg doesn't come close to hitting him.

"You've got it. Good to see those muscles of yours remember. If you weren't trained already, princess, you'd be wobbling all over the place, so it's good to see you've not dropped back that much."

She grins, visibly inflated by the praise, and tries a few more, stepping forward after each kick and alternating legs just as she must have been drilled as a genin. The idea that her training has sunk in so deep is strange but interesting. It certainly makes the idea of being her teacher more fun than if he were starting from scratch.

Kisame has never worked to _help_ anybody fight before, and he's surprised to find it's enjoyable. They work through a few more stances, some paired kicks and punches, and a good number of basic blocks. Each time Sakura grasps the techniques instinctively, though the expression on her face says she doesn't really understand what's going on.

Neither does he, but everything is going so well that when an idea comes to him, he doesn't hesitate to try it. He's tired of watching her punch the air anyway.

"Okay cherry-pie. What we're gonna do now is spar. That means you attack me, and I attack you back...only for now I'll just defend 'cause you're not ready for a real attack." He doesn't bother mentioning that if he hit her with full force he could probably shatter her slender little ribcage, it would only scare her, and she looks worried enough as it is.

"But what if I hit you? Won't you get hurt?"

The anxiety in her voice makes him laugh full out this time, and she looks equal parts surprised and affronted at his response. "Look, kid," He manages between chuckles, "I'm twice your size, more than twice your age, and fully trained. Even if I didn't defend myself at all you'd hardly leave a scratch on me."

Sakura looks at him doubtfully, and he almost bursts out laughing again. Never before has anybody underestimated him so seriously; not even back in Mist before he defected, when they thought he would never dare attack his own comrades, let alone be able to defeat them all. It's refreshing to have her here, to have someone around who stares critically without noticing the inhuman features, the bulging muscles, or the general aura of deadliness.

"Come on," He tries, "Try hurting me, and if you manage, I won't complain."

She twists her mouth to the side in consideration, then nods. "Okay. When should I start?"

"Any time you like princess. As a general rule, you don't give your opponent any warning." Her body might still remember her roots, but her attitude...she's certainly no ninja while she has to ask questions like that.

After a moment, she starts towards him, with a well executed but painfully half-hearted crescent kick. Kisame simply steps back to avoid it, and she stands still again, whole seconds which would be vital in a real battle left to trickle slowly by. Then she starts forward again, punching to one side and sweeping a foot to trip him as he dodges. He jumps the foot, and again there's a pause, but shorter this time.

Finally seeming to get the idea, she starts forward again, feinting to his left but keeping moving even when he dodges the fist that flies in from the right. Her form is different – not worse, but distinctive, the angles of her upper body twisting faster as she moves, making use of her flexibility.

It's fascinating to watch, the emerging pattern of movements, of a distinct fighting style that must be her own, developed by years of training. It's still not the movements of a deadly kunoichi, but only because there's no conviction in her actions, no killing intent. He is even forced to block a couple of times as she gets more focused.

Then, as inexplicably as it came, the focus is gone and she's standing still again, bending with her hands on her knees and panting for breath. He stops too, watches her as she gathers herself. It's not really surprising that she's tiring so fast – after all she spent a week in bed and injured, so she's far from her peak stamina. But then she sits down on the ground, and gestures for him to do the same, and that _is_ surprising.

He does as she bids though, and crouches beside her among the crushed plant-life. It takes a few moments for her to get her breath back, but eventually she gives a last long sigh and relaxes. "Kisame, what's it like to fight? Properly, I mean, not just like this with me chasing you and never actually doing anything."

"Well, it's..." He stalls for time and waves a hand vaguely. "It's different for everybody. It makes you be completely focused, because if you aren't, you'll d- you'll get hurt. It's a challenge, and there's nothing to win but walking away with your life and pride. It's about making your body do things it never would otherwise, pushing your limits. For me? Fighting is my favourite thing to do. And I think, maybe, it was the same for you, before all this."

She doesn't get it, he can tell. "So even though it might hurt, you like it? Don't you worry about hurting the person you're fighting?"

He sighs. "The profession we're in isn't all that nice. We have to fight with the _intention_ of hurting our enemies. I know you can't remember it, but the world isn't like this everywhere."

He's scared her a little by the looks of it, and she stares round at the mountains all around as if expecting an invading army. When she meets his eyes again, her brows are scrunched in confused anguish. "But how can you like that?"

"It's what I'm best at. Fighting is about truth, there's no way you can bullshit a blade. Fighting makes you feel alive." She's still not getting it, and he's run out of patience with her naïvety. "Come on, get up and I'll show you. Come at me like you're aiming to kill me. I'll hit back, but don't worry too much, I won't hurt you badly."

Eyes still wide, staring uncomprehendingly, she stands and faces him. He steps back to give her some space. "Come on, come at me like you mean it."

She licks her lips and charges, finesse lost but overall form still good. He blocks her, feels the strength behind the kick and smiles. It's not deadly yet, but there's more conviction there than before. After defending for a few more blows, he slips to the side and throws a punch towards her shoulder. She twists away before it can connect properly, and her foot swings round at lightning speed.

He's surprised enough by the change of pace that he reacts instinctively, and barely manages to pull his punch at her exposed side. Thrown off balance by the blow she tumbles to the ground, shocked but not really injured. Long seconds pass while they both stare at each other in silence, and Kisame tries to work out what the hell happened.

She flipped from innocent girl to kunoichi, just for an instant. He replays the movements in his head, trying to work out...oh, of course. As soon as she was attacked, as soon as instinct took over completely, her body just fought for her. He knows the feeling of fighting without forethought, when the world narrows down to the thrum of blood in his ears and the weight of Samehada in his hand and he just _moves_.

He sits down beside her, not too close just in case she's skittish. But Sakura just picks up a fallen flower, petals crushed on one side from an uncaring foot, and twirls it while he waits in silence.

"I think I get it," She says at long last. "When you hit me, it was...it hurt, but it was a good kind of pain. Not like these." She holds her arms up and her long sleeves fall back to reveal still-healing pink skin.

He nods acknowledgment. "You remember more than I expected. Your body does anyway. Did you see how well you responded at the end there?"

She blushes at that, but smiles, bringing her arms down again. "It was so fast, but it felt like I was perfect, like I was just watching myself."

They sit quietly for a while, watching the trodden plants slowly spring back around them, battered but still glossy in the afternoon sun. Kisame knows better than to push her again now, after she's come so far, and Sakura seems content to simply be still for the time being.

With a crunch he lies back to watch the sky, rimmed on the edged of his vision by the mountains around. It's not the view he's used to, and the lack of rain clouds overhead bothers him...but it's still peaceful. Across the clear ground he can hear Deidara and Tobi arguing, and beneath that the sound of wind in the trees behind Itachi's house.

"He has a short temper, hasn't he?" Sakura asks suddenly, leaning back beside Kisame on her elbows.

"Who does?"

"Deidara," She nods over to the sound of raised voices, "He doesn't really seem to like people, but I think he likes me. He got cross with me earlier, a bit, but not as bad as that."

"Deidara got cross with you?" He turns his gaze from the sky to watch her, but Sakura is looking away from him still, to where Deidara is currently throttling his flailing partner. She frowns at the scene and shakes her head before replying.

"Not exactly. I was just asking him things and he said not to worry about it. I wasn't really worried though, I just wanted to know if his family was safe after the fire. But he says we don't have families, and that it doesn't matter why for now."

Kisame nearly groans at the faux pas. Asking a missing nin about their family, and a member of Akatsuki at that...well he would consider that a suicide gambit usually, but in this case she doesn't know better. No wonder Deidara got angry at her, though it's not a good sign that he couldn't hide it. Then again the artist's past might well be worse than his own.

Once upon a time, Kisame thought he had a pretty decent series of events in his past which had led him to being a missing nin. But then he was partnered with Itachi, and the idea that he'd had it bad in his village was wiped out. He still hadn't got the details from his partner, but just the look in the kid's eyes – because when he first joined up Itachi was still only a child – said everything. And it's entirely possible that Deidara's history is on the same scale of messed-up.

He tries to pick his words carefully, reminding himself how little she knows about the life she's living now. No need to scare her, but he's the best placed to explain this. "Most ninja don't live like us. They owe their allegiance to the Daimyo of their country, and they have to do what they're told. They live in hidden villages, and have families. But we're different. We're Akatsuki."

"Akatsuki?" She asks, just as he knew she would.

He pulls together every nice word he can, and tries to sell the idea to her. "We left our corrupt villages, and our families. Akatsuki are a band of the best ninjas, who have renounced their allegiance to those we used to serve. The countries of the shinobi world have each sealed demons into one or more of their serving ninjas to use as weapons of war. Our aim here is to bring peace to the world by taking the demons away."

He's not sure he was supposed to tell her about Akatsuki and its goals, but she's going to find out sometime or other, and he thinks he's done a good enough job of convincing her. She lays fully back, gaze trained on the sky above, and bites her lip.

"So, is that why they attack us?" She asks, voice small.

"Partly. But ninja earn money from three things – warring with each other, protecting clients, and killing or stealing from others for their clients. It's not a pretty line of work, like I said. But we're not in that game any more, so we have to fight for survival." He doesn't need to mention all the work he's done for Akatsuki that doesn't directly relate to the cause. She'll never find out about the assassination missions he's done, the deliberate bloody warnings, the kidnappings...not if he can help it.

Itachi might think she can be won over by her emotions, but Kisame isn't convinced. In the end, when her memories return she'll only stay if she believes them not to be totally immoral, if she has memories like this that don't jar too harshly with her returned experiences from before.

The peace in her face as she sits up fully is reassuring, and her breathing has slowed to a steady rate once more. He rises and reaches a hand down to pull her to her feet. "Come on, let's try again. And if you manage to land a hit on me, we'll even see about getting you using chakra tomorrow."

"Chakra?"

"Yeah. You might have forgotten it, but trust me – it will make fighting _much_ more fun."

And the thing is, she clearly does trust him, because she falls straight into her stance with a grin. This whole mission is turning out to be more enjoyable than he expected.

#

"Kisame, I asked you to watch her for the afternoon, not exhaust her." Itachi is not impressed by the battered state of their patient, and even less so by the way she's just fallen asleep over her meal, head lolling against his shoulder.

"We got a bit carried away, sorry. I swear I didn't push past her limits though, she was with me all the way." Kisame looks unrepentant, happy even. Itachi watched some of the afternoon's training, and he could tell then that both parties were enjoying themselves. Still, it is odd to see Kisame so content for so long after fighting when he didn't even make a kill.

Snorting under his breath at the thought that Kisame actually seems to _like_ Sakura, he gathers her sleeping form up in his arms and proceeds to the stairwell. At some point the steps will need to be reinforced so they can take a heavy enough weight, but for now he simply jumps the distance, remembering with amusement the expression on her face the last time he did so.

Sakura is very open, and it is difficult for him to forget such visible emotions when he is used to reading the subtleties of blank-faced opponents. Actively drawing forth her feelings is an interesting experiment, and will probably be an important skill to master if he – or any of them – intend on securing her affections. But for now she is expressionless, and he hastens to put her in bed before she cools, up here away from the fire.

Returning to the ground floor and his partner, he cocks an eyebrow to see all of Kisame's rice finished already. He sits opposite, the fire between them, and finishes his own bowl in silence.

"Itachi," Kisame begins, "We need a better idea of what to tell her. She's not stupid, and she's asking questions so we need an agreed line."

He takes up Sakura's abandoned bowl and eats the last of her meat before responding. "What sort of questions has she been asking?"

"Well apparently this morning she asked Deidara why he's got no family and he had a go at her, and then later she asked me about fighting and Akatsuki and the whole ninja way of life. I told her we were nobly working to bring peace to the world, and that we fight because other people attack us."

"And she believed you?" He can't keep the incredulity out of his voice. She may be stripped of her memories, but he can't remember a time when he would have swallowed a story so easily, not even as a child.

"She acts like I'm some all-knowing god, of course she believed me. I also mentioned the bijuu, but she doesn't need to know how they end up."

"In that case, maybe we should refer her to you whenever she has questions. Given that she seems to associate you with her former teacher it is possible that she won't question the arrangement."

Kisame looks unconvinced, an expression he is getting used to seeing on his partner since the start of this mission. "She asked Deidara first, we can't have everybody shove her onto me. But I can try to be...available if she needs to know anything. We still need a proper backstory though, so we can mention little things and seem realistic. Otherwise as time goes by she's going to start getting suspicious."

Itachi would have thought the same a day or two ago, but having seen her mind and the memories she had formed after her first waking, he's not so sure. Her unconscious acceptance of them as comrades runs deep, and he feels confident that she will continue to think the same way now. But there is no harm in having a coherent tale to tell her.

"We can speak with Tobi and Deidara once the meal is cleared away. Only the basic premise will be necessary, other than that I am sure everybody can improvise well enough."

He places her now-empty bowl on top of his own, but upon seeing the glimmer of amusement in his partner's eye changes tack. Instead of taking Kisame's bowl to wash, he places the two in his hands on top of Kisame's, and returns to sitting by the fire.

He hears a groan of dismay, but keeps his eyes fixed on the dancing red and black of the embers. Not that he minds the more domestic aspects of this mission, but somehow he suspects Kisame thinks such work demeaning. And since it is Kisame, and not he, who wishes to have a meeting tonight, there is no reason he should put the work in to make it happen.

* * *

><p>Up next, chapter 9 - <em>Learning Home<em>


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